


Necessary Things

by rainfall



Series: Power and Control [1]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hypnotism, M/M, Mind Control, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainfall/pseuds/rainfall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexei conducts a very thorough experiment with a blastia device of his own design.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary Things

**Author's Note:**

> For [apapazukamori](http://apapazukamori.livejournal.com). Merry Christmas, Apa!
> 
> Does _not_ use _First Strike_ canon, but they gave Flynn and Yuri's captain a name, and I'll take all the names I can get. Spoilers through the events at the Shrine of Baction!

Power. Control.

In the end, Alexei knew he wouldn't be able to accomplish anything without them. They were the be-all, end-all -- the only way to fix this corrupt system that others laughably called the _Imperial Government_ , that others laughably expected _justice_ from. Had he really been so naive as to expect merely becoming Commandant to help? Had he really been so blind as to think the Council of Nobles would fall before him, slain by the magnitude of one, small accomplishment?

No. Politics alone had failed him. But there were – other ways.

Alexei turned the device over in his hand.

To the untrained eye, there was very little remarkable about it. A thoroughly unimpressive-looking machine, spherical and small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of anyone's hand, with only a single blastia core to provide it power and the simplest of formulae to do its dirty work. One unmarked button to activate it.

Who would have imagined, looking at it, that this device had cost millions of gald and occupied the best minds in Aspio for months on end? But all of that would be well-worth it, provided that the device could produce measurable results.

Therein lay the rub. Successful laboratory tests, as any scientist knew, revealed almost nothing about how a device would actually perform in the field. There was no predicting how successful a _real_ test would be, and he certainly couldn't risk approaching one of the Council members with this device until he had gathered much more data about its efficacy; its range; its... potency.

He turned it over in his hand again.

Alexei Dinoia was a soldier and a scientist. He knew that for every great advance, there were sacrifices -- for every important skirmish, casualties. And experience had taught him, repeatedly, that the consequences of _inaction_ were always the harder to live with. Not only for himself, not only for the Empire, but for every living, breathing person on Terca Lumireis.

And tonight, there would only be _one_ casualty.

He spent a moment more studying the device, rubbing his thumb over its one unmarked button, before setting it down on his desk. "Come," he called out, raising his voice loud enough to be heard out in the hall.

Immediately, the door to his office opened, and a young man entered -- no, really more of a boy. Alexei knew him, although not personally; Niren had spoken often and highly of a blond, blue-eyed youth in his brigade. Brave, with unmatched prowess on the field of battle and real determination, this one might make lieutenant someday. _Captain,_ Niren had said.

Quite the lofty pronouncement, considering the boy was just nineteen this year. But Niren had an eye for these things.

The boy came to stand in front of his desk and bowed stiffly. He had his helmet braced against his hip in the customary fashion. "Sir," he said, and his voice was very soft. "I was told you needed to see me?"

A key ingredient in this exercise was that Niren had also called the boy _commanding_. Alexei saw very little of that at the moment, but then, softness of voice did not necessitate softness of character. He glanced at the device, then offered the boy a smile. "Indeed I do. You are... Flynn Scifo, are you not?"

It was often quite remarkable, the effect that knowing a subordinate's name could have on them. The boy -- Flynn -- stood very slightly taller, the set of his shoulders suddenly more confident. "Yes, sir, Commandant. Of the Niren Brigade, Sir." He was, Alexei noted vaguely, quite good-looking.

Not that his _looks_ were relevant in the slightest.

Alexei continued to smile at him. "Excellent. I have a project that requires your assistance. I trust I have your... willingness?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Flynn Scifo said at once, his eyes very wide. "Anything I can do for you, Sir!"

It was... actually almost problematic. If he pressed the button now and then ordered this boy to stand on his head or shave off all his hair or improvise and perform a romantic ballad right here, on the spot, there would be no way of knowing whether it was due to the device or due to the boy's eagerness to please him. Alexei gazed at him for several seconds, considering, and then said, "Very well. First, if you would: lock the door you just came through and then draw the curtains. This matter is of the utmost secrecy."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Really, the boy looked _excited_ as he went to work. Alexei supposed it was understandable; the... project, such as it was, must have seemed quite prestigious and important. "Anything else, Sir?" Flynn asked when he had done everything requested of him.

"Yes," Alexei said honestly and retrieved the device, holding it out for him to see. "Stare directly at this. Do not blink and do not look away until I say otherwise."

Finally a measure of hesitation. "...Sir?" The boy's expression was -- confused, more than anything else. He glanced at the device, then back at Alexei's face. Perhaps he was disappointed that he hadn't been tasked with something more rigorous.

"There will be more to it than this," Alexei assured him, and some -- but not all -- of the uncertainty cleared from Flynn's face. "But before anything else, you must do this one thing for me. Call it a test, of sorts."

Still Flynn paused but only for another scant few seconds. "Sir," he said, and pointed his eyes determinedly at the strange device.

Alexei took care to close his own before pressing the button, but even so he could still see the ghostly traces of light on the insides of his eyelids as the device whirred silently in his hand. There was a soft gasp from the boy, surprise perhaps, and Alexei wondered what the lights looked like; were they colorful, did they strobe? He had never and _would_ never look at the sphere when it was active, although there was, theoretically, a limited range. _The closer the better,_ his engineers had told him. Worthless information.

But then, that was the reason for conducting tests like this one.

It went on for several minutes, which was not a practical duration of time -- unlike this boy, Council members could not be _ordered_ to stare -- and Alexei spent that time listening to Flynn's breathing as it slowed and shallowed. Like the breathing of a sleeper. Finally, the device ceased its whirring and its play of lights; it was now safe to open his eyes again.

Flynn Scifo was still standing, almost at attention, but his posture had relaxed considerably and his eyes were at half-mast. Their pupils, Alexei noted, were dilated. His lips were also parted, his jaw noticeably slack.

It was not the most intelligent or flattering of expressions, but Alexei found it fascinating. He set the device down, noiselessly, noticing that the boy's head inclined as he did so; he was still watching it, as best he could.

"Can you hear me?" Alexei asked him. It was a standard question. Then he added: "Answer verbally." Being specific had been extremely important with the laboratory subjects. In this state, vague commands produced mixed results. So, too, did overly complicated commands. Small words, spoken slowly, and with frequent encouragement: those were the cornerstones of success.

"I can hear you," Flynn murmured. His voice was dreamy and unconcerned; exactly like the laboratory subjects.

So far, so good. "Do you know who you are? Answer verbally," he forced himself to add again.

"I do."

Alexei waited for a moment, giving him plenty of time to elaborate, but of course he wasn't going to do that without explicit instructions. "Tell me who you are. In detail."

"I'm Flynn Scifo," the boy said. "I'm a knight, one of the Imperial Knights. In the Niren Brigade." After a moment, he added, "I grew up in the Lower Quarter. I'm a commoner. And an orphan."

All of the formality had gone from him; no more _Sir_ , and likely no more awareness of whom, exactly, he was speaking _to_. He also said everything very slowly, not quite slurring but certainly not enunciating his words either. Holding a proper conversation with him, like this, would be maddening.

"Do you know who I am?" Alexei asked him.

The boy frowned vaguely and turned his head as much as he could without taking his eyes completely off the device. He didn't speak.

 _Of course_ he didn't; Alexei blew out an irritated breath. "Answer _verbally_. Tell me who I am."

"Alexei Dinoia."

He knew, then; the formality had fallen away for some other reason. Alexei gazed at him for a beat, curious despite himself. "And who am I in relation to you? Answer verbally."

"My commanding officer," Flynn replied, but it was as if the words held no meaning for him. They might as well have been a slew of random adjectives he had strung together, and he said them without the slightest flicker of recognition.

It was -- interesting. Terribly interesting. But, reluctantly, Alexei put the oddity aside. In the end, it mattered very little.

"Correct," he said. "Do you know what that means? Answer verbally."

Flynn frowned again. "It means you're my superior...?" He seemed confused, which was understandable; _superior_ was a fairly abstract concept.

"Very good," Alexei told him, watching as the frown faded. "And because I am your superior, you must do as I say -- without question. Do you understand? Answer verbally."

"...I think I do," Flynn murmured. "But... without question?"

The mildest of protests. Under any other circumstances, it would have been -- unimpressive, at best. But in his current state, the boy should have readily agreed to _anything_. Alexei raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat, thoughtful. This was why they needed field tests: none of the laboratory subjects had ever so much as hesitated, let alone given voice to actual _objection_.

But it was, in the end, no different from breaking a stubborn quietta. The task simply required patience -- and a firm hand. "Without question," he repeated. "Without so much as a second thought. I would not give an order, Private, were it not absolutely necessary. Do you understand?" He almost paused, almost forgot to add: "Answer verbally."

If anything, the boy's frown was more pronounced now. "I... understand."

Alexei played a finger lightly over the surface of his desk. Understanding and agreeing were two very different things, and he could not escape the conclusion that young Flynn Scifo -- as relaxed and open to suggestion as he was right now -- had nonetheless chosen his words with _care_. Perhaps a different tactic; he would go back to basics. "Remember," he said softly, "that every word I speak is the honest, unvarnished truth. I am, in fact, quite incapable of deceit."

He gave that one a moment to sink in, climbing slowly to his feet. It was a complicated but also extremely simple concept, and one that his laboratory subjects had always embraced. Being able to _trust_ the voices that instructed them often seemed to be something of a relief.

The same sentiment was playing itself out on Flynn's face and in his posture. What little tension there had been was now melting away. He would not be an exception to _this_ rule, then.

"So now you understand," Alexei said, not without some measure of satisfaction. "There is no reason to question anything I say, because it will all be completely true. Tell me what this means for you."

"I must do as you command," the boy said, as promptly as he could through his languor. "Without hesitation. Without a second thought. Every order you give is absolutely necessary. And every word you say is true."

Alexei allowed himself a small, faint smile.

He could have ended the test there; should, perhaps, have ended the test there. But he found himself oddly aware of his own breathing, the rapid beating of his heart. There was a certain -- thrill to this that he had not anticipated. Seeing the boy's reluctance shift, wither, and then blossom into compliance. _Causing_ that change with his words, his formula, his device.

Control. Power. They were necessary. _This_ was necessary.

And, after all, he had only just had his first real taste of success. It would have been... such a waste to end the test now.

Alexei rubbed a thumb over his lips and then said, lightly, "When I count to three, you will awaken and have no memory of this conversation, but you will still know that everything I say is the _utter_ truth and that every order I give must be followed. Do you understand?" He waited, and then remembered to add, one last irritating time: "Answer verbally."

"I understand," Flynn agreed.

"One," Alexei said, returning to his seat. "Two." He removed the device from his desk, stowing it safely into a drawer instead, then looked up to meet the boy's sleepy blue eyes. "Three."

Flynn Scifo blinked, then abruptly straightened. He glanced around the room, pursing his lips, obviously more than a little confused, but not quite willing to actually voice it. When he noticed his commandant sitting in front of him, he squared his shoulders further. No memory of their entire conversation, no idea of what he was doing here, but he saw his commandant and snapped instantly to attention.

Would he have been more alarmed a moment ago? Alexei smiled at him. "At ease," he said, letting the boy relax a little. "As you know, I have summoned you here because I have _use_ for you."

He placed the softest emphasis on that one word; but if Flynn noticed it, the boy didn't seem unsettled. Of course he didn't.

"But first," Alexei went on, and it was something of an effort not to let his smile widen, "I feel I must apologize. The heater in this room is broken, and you may have noticed that it is far too warm here for comfort."

The reaction was -- completely fascinating. He could see the flush rising in the boy's throat and cheeks as his body absorbed the suggestion, the _truth_ , of an overwarm room. "No," the boy said at once. "It's nothing you need to apologize for, Sir. I hardly even noticed."

"Still," Alexei said, gesturing at his plated torso. "It's only the two of us in here, Private. And we have all lived in barracks before. Please, feel free to shed some of that heavy armor." An innocent enough offer from a superior officer. "And the clothes underneath it." Rather less so.

Flynn hesitated, and for a moment Alexei thought -- but then he was smiling gratefully and turning to set his helmet down. "I really appreciate it, Sir."

"Not at all," Alexei said smoothly, watching him. "You will be much more comfortable, and therefore much more able to assist me this evening. It is quite selfish, really."

That made the boy laugh. There was no self-consciousness in him as he stripped out of his tunic and began to unfasten and remove his armor, one piece at a time. Even when his hands fell to his belt, he did not pause, tugging it loose and letting it drop. When he was completely naked, Flynn let out a soft sigh; he really _was_ much more comfortable, just as he had been told to be.

"Thank you," the boy murmured, smiling.

And he really _was_ quite good-looking, Alexei noted, less vaguely this time. He had a boyish sort of charm, especially when he smiled, but his body... there was nothing boyish there, none of the awkward -- _unfinished_ look some young men still had at nineteen.

It was... not unappealing.

Alexei eased his chair back from his desk and said, "You still seem -- tense, Private. Please, make yourself more comfortable."

"Sir?"

"Well." Alexei paused. "I would not venture to say whether it's the heat or the dubious excitement of being nude in my office, but..." He gestured vaguely to the boy's genital region. The first suggestion had worked; there was no substantial reason why this one wouldn't as well. But the words, spoken aloud, were so... crude. "You seem to be rather -- erect." He lowered his eyes and waited.

Flynn made a tight, unintelligible noise, but his body was obedient, his flesh responsive. "I..." The boy jerked his hands into a more modest position. "I am _so_ sorry, Sir," he whispered, and he truly sounded it. "I have no idea how this -- happened..."

And that, too, sounded sincere. He had no idea. Alexei offered a reassuring, understanding smile. "It is quite all right," he said. "Merely an observation. As I was saying, you should make yourself more... comfortable." He steepled his hands. "You are tense, Private. Please, feel free to relieve your tension."

The boy flushed. "Commandant..."

"You _need_ it," Alexei said, and watched as his expression contorted with this new information. "And there is nothing wrong with that. I do not mind in the slightest. In fact, you might say I am rather -- looking forward to it."

"I..." Flynn gasped, curling in on himself, and made a grab for the edge of the desk to keep himself upright. "I -- I'm fine... Sir..."

Resistance. He tilted his head to the side, gazing at Flynn's face; gazing at his cock, which was dark with urgency and slick at the tip. Merely being invited to tend to himself and _needing_ it were, clearly, not good enough. Alexei circled slowly around his desk, coming to stand beside the trembling young man.

"You must realize we will not be able to accomplish anything with you in this state," he murmured, reaching out to draw his knuckles precisely down the length of Flynn's bent spine; it earned him a helpless shudder. "Can you even concentrate? Be honest. The thought of how pleasurable it would be to touch yourself consumes you."

Another tight noise, no more intelligible than the last; a whimper. The boy cinched his eyes shut. "N-- No," he uttered breathlessly. "I can't... think -- of anything else..."

Including, apparently, formalities. Alexei gave his spine another stroke, slow. "And that won't do at all, will it?" he asked, and was dimly surprised at the sound of his own voice: a strangely-raw husk. His heartbeat was thunderously loud now. "So, take care of the problem. You will enjoy it," he added, and knew that Flynn would.

"Co... Commandant..." Flynn turned to look at him, desperation all over his face, but his grip on the edge of the desk was tighter if anything, _more_ determined.

Alexei gazed at him for a beat. He would have to make note of this. But for the moment, he only smiled and said firmly: "Bring yourself to orgasm, Private. That's an order."

The boy shuddered, biting his lips, but he loosed his right hand and brought it down, between his thighs, to curl around his insistent erection. Immediately he groaned, his cheeks flushing a darker shade of red, and rolled his hips into his fingers. "Ah, _ahhh_..."

He could not seem to contain himself, though the way he kept pursing his lips suggested he was making every effort. Alexei held very still, watching him, watching the muscles shiver and contract in his shoulders and upper back, watching his biceps ripple with each short stroke.

There would have been an aesthetic appeal to the sight regardless, but the knowledge that every movement, every quiver, every panting breath was _his_ doing... His words, his formula, his device...

"Haah..." Flynn Scifo tipped his head back, moaning quietly. His face was open, his lips swollen and slack, his eyes dark and sightless. He dragged his fingers to the wet head of his cock and played very deliberately with its most sensitive parts. On the verge of release, he finally seemed to have surrendered completely to the intensity of his _enjoyment_.

The power. The control.

They were necessary. And they were -- intoxicating.

He had to take a step back and swallow before he could speak. Even so, his voice came out in a whisper. "The pleasure is overwhelming for you. You cannot hold out any longer. Give into it -- and do _not_ ," his tongue felt inexplicably numb, "hold back."

As his words sunk in, the boy arched, actually crying _out_ this time. The force of his climax seemed to tear through him, fierce pulses that splattered against the desk in front of him over and over again until he was thoroughly spent. Flynn leaned there weakly, his body rigid and his shoulders heaving with each breath. His face was blood-red.

Poor thing, Alexei thought vaguely, and withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket to begin cleaning up the fine polished surface of his desk.

"S... Sir..."

When Alexei looked up, the boy was watching him hazily.

"Please... accept my -- humblest apologies... I didn't... mean to--" Flynn somehow managed to turn a slightly darker shade of red and averted his eyes. "Your desk... The wood might be ruined..."

 _Ah_. For a moment, Alexei had wondered -- but it seemed not. "You needn't concern yourself, Private," he said mildly. "The wood will be fine. More importantly, you seem to be in much better shape now."

Flynn nodded, accepting or at least acknowledging this, but he still looked apologetic. He mumbled something that might have been, "I usually have much better control."

It made Alexei smile. "And better aim, too, I would wager," he drawled, which brought a small smile to the boy's lips as well.

He could have ended the test there; should, perhaps, have ended the test there.

Instead, he found himself asking, "Do you have any apple gels on you at present, Private?"

He had never put gels to such a use before, but he was no fool. He knew what his men often made of their medical supplies, especially on long sea voyages; privately, he considered it a consequence of the relatively few women enlisted in the Imperial Knights. His men were only human.

Not like himself. This was not about his shortness of breath or the heaviness between his thighs. It was about guaranteeing the results of his device. It was about necessity.

If the words had a hollow ring to them, Alexei paid it no mind.

The boy lifted his head, frowning slowly. He hadn't quite recovered from his release, it seemed. "Of -- course, Sir..." He took a thin, shivering breath. "I always carry them... Just in case. They're in -- a pouch, on my belt..."

Alexei tucked the used handkerchief away and began to unhook his spaulders. "Then you must know the protocol for using them," he said. "Recite it."

"...First, you open the package..." Flynn was straightening, clasping his hands behind his back. The standard position for such things. "Then, depending on the severity and type of your injuries, you either ingest or apply them topically. Ingesting is especially effective for bruising or non-localized pain, and topical application is more suited to cuts, shallow wounds, and persistent aches. Anything worse than that requires a healer, but gels are a good stopgap measure..."

It was almost as if none of the events of the last half-hour had occurred, as if he weren't still naked and vulnerable in front of his commandant. Alexei unfastened his cuffs and let the cape fall away from his shoulders before offering one... correction. "You have forgotten one other method of application," he said, watching the boy stiffen. "The most effective one, in fact. Perhaps Niren neglected to mention it?"

"Sir, no sir," Flynn said at once. "Captain Niren was very thorough, Sir. It must have slipped my mind." He lowered his eyes, apparently feeling some sense of personal shame for this imaginary lapse. "Please remind me, Sir."

He made it so very easy. Alexei smiled at him. "Gels can also be taken as suppositories, regardless of the severity or type of one's injuries. It is an especially useful delivery system when determining the extent of injury is difficult."

The boy blinked, giving him a somewhat startled glance. "Suppositories, Sir?"

Almost _too_ easy, really. "Yes," Alexei said. "Surely you are not unfamiliar with the term...? Why," he went on, and it was an effort to keep his voice light, "I would have thought every knight knew _this_ much. The ability to administer field medicine properly is a vital survival skill for any man. Niren must have been quite derelict indeed..."

"No!" The boy bit his mouth shut but, of course, he was too late if he had meant to keep his objection to himself. "That is... no, Sir. I... I know what the word means. And I know how to administer them." His cheeks were pink, but he was insistent in his defense of his captain. "I've done it -- many times before, Sir."

Alexei gestured at his belt and the pouch; they were in a crumpled heap, along with the rest of his clothes and all the pieces of his armor. "Then, please. Demonstrate."

The pink was more of a red now. Flynn stayed where he was for a second, perhaps less, and then knelt down to retrieve an apple gel.

"I trust you know the procedure?" Alexei asked him patiently when he hesitated. "Lie down flat on your back. Spread your legs..."

"I know," Flynn agreed quickly, and rolled over onto his back.

"Warm the gel with your fingers," Alexei went on. "The delivery is more effective if the gel is coated thinly over the walls of your rectum."

"I know," the boy repeated, and for an instant Alexei might have called the expression on his face -- mutinous; resentful. But then it was gone, replaced smoothly by almost picture-perfect obedience and humility.

He was so... fascinating.

"Next," Alexei murmured, when the gel was spreading easily over Flynn's fingers, "you press your fingers to your sphincter and push inwards gently. It will feel..." He wet his lips. "Very good."

Flynn said nothing this time, but as he followed the -- procedure, he did make a small, hungry sound through his teeth.

"Keep moving your fingers," Alexei told him; his own voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. "Yes, just like that. The pleasure can be very distracting, but try to keep focused. How does that feel?"

"I..." Flynn rolled his shoulders restlessly. "It's -- good... So good..." He turned his cheek into the floor but continued to work the fragile entrance to his body, _applying_ the gel as thoroughly as he could.

Alexei undid his belt and removed his tunic. "Your earlier... tension is returning," he murmured. "Natural, I suppose. Some do find a certain unseemly eroticism in the proper application of field medicine."

"--No, I--" But the boy's body was betraying him, responding easily. Did it ache, having to harden again so quickly? Flynn shut his eyes, panting softly. "I... I'm sorry, Sir." He started to reach for his erection again, apparently needing no reminders of what the appropriate response was in this situation.

Such attention to his duties was an admirable quality in a knight, but Alexei held out a hand to stay him. "Would that really be enough to satisfy you, Private?" he asked. "I think you need something... more, this time."

Flynn stared up at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the fingers of one hand still buried deep inside his body. "...Yes," he whispered. "I need more."

"Something -- thicker, shall we say, than your fingers," Alexei suggested.

The boy shivered, and even though it had hardly been the most explicit of phrasings, his eyes still dropped to Alexei's groin. It was almost as though the thought had occurred to him before. "Sir..."

He stepped away from the wall and came to kneel between the boy's parted thighs. Somehow the room really had grown warm; there was sweat breaking out on his own skin, and he could feel the air on it as he moved. Alexei trailed his eyes down the length of his subordinate's body, taking in every detail -- every hard line of muscle, every dark vein in his erection; lingering especially on the sight of his hole, glistening with gel and stretched tight around his fingers.

"Never fear, Private," Alexei said soothingly. "I happen to be a firm believer in the responsibility of a commanding officer to take care of his men, in every capacity."

Flynn let out a breath like a sigh, evidently relieved. "Yes, sir," he whispered, lifting his hips helpfully. "Thank you, Sir."

"Withdraw your fingers," Alexei instructed, pausing to let him; there was a soft, wet sound as they slid free and the boy hissed. "Any discomfort?"

"A -- a little," Flynn said.

Alexei looked up at his face and smiled. "No," he said. "I think not. I think there was only a burst of guilty pleasure. Am I correct?"

And of course, now he was. The boy flushed. "Y, yes." He shut his eyes against -- something; shame, embarrassment, reluctance. Guilt.

"This, too, will not be uncomfortable for you," Alexei told him coolly, getting himself into position. "Not even _a little_. In fact," he added, on inspiration, "the pure pleasure of having your body fully penetrated in this manner will be so intense that you will likely have an instantaneous orgasm."

Flynn was staring up at him now, mouth open. "I-- What? Commandant..."

Perhaps he had been too explicit; careless of him. Alexei cursed himself and smiled smoothly. "There was nothing strange about anything I just said," he murmured. "There has been nothing remotely strange about any of this. You have no concerns and no suspicions. And how could you," he went on, "when the only thought in your head is of how desperately you want my cock?"

It worked very well; the boy's expression cleared completely and his blue eyes went cloudy with desire. "Commandant," he said again, but this time the title was an entreaty.

Alexei did not make him wait.

From the first millimeter, it was -- different. Somehow he managed to be aware of that, even as Flynn twisted beneath him, legs crossing tightly around his waist as if to hold him in place. The boy was _tighter_ , just as warm but not as wet, and certainly more... enthusiastic than any partner he had ever had.

"Yes-- _Yes_ , ah, shit," Flynn moaned breathlessly, fingers digging tight into Alexei's shoulders. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were almost completely black. "Commandant-- Commandant, more -- please -- _don't stop_ \--"

His pleasure was so naked on his face, so palpable in his voice. Dimly Alexei felt the heat of the other boy's hard cock, pressing against his belly with seemingly unfulfilled need, and knew that it was about to be anything but. It sent a shudder down to the core of him.

This much control, this much power -- could become addictive.

A single, smooth, _deep_ stroke; that was all it took. Then Flynn made a strangled noise and came hard between them, gasping, clinging tightly to him. It didn't stop the boy from continuing to rock his hips in time with the next several thrusts, wanton noises spilling freely from his lips.

"Still... enjoying yourself, I -- take it?" Speaking was not the easiest thing to do just at the moment, and he rather disliked having to listen to the breathy sound of his own voice, but the temptation was too great.

Flynn shivered. "It... feels good," he managed.

In, out, in again. "Tell -- me. Be... honest. _Detailed_."

The boy swallowed audibly. "It's... it's -- wonderful," he husked, reddening faintly. "So much better than..." He turned a darker shade of red. "Your -- cock, filling me, is so good. It's -- I'm going crazy..."

"The best thing... you have _ever_ felt," Alexei corrected him, and he nodded earnestly, still flushed; of course it was.

"Don't stop-- Don't ever stop," he whispered. "Please..."

Alexei laughed, deep in his throat, and shoved in harder, deeper, making them both groan with the pleasure of it. "Rest assured," he told the boy thickly. In, out; in, out. "You _want_ me to finish. My orgasm... will be ecstasy for you."

"Yes," Flynn said immediately, arching up to meet his next thrust. "Oh god-- Yes... Commandant..."

The words, his endless well of responsiveness, were satisfying; perhaps too satisfying. Unbidden, Alexei found himself imagining what that would look like: the cry his release would now wrench from this boy's throat, the way his well-muscled but still slender frame would shake with it. It was -- an extremely attractive picture in his mind's eye.

In, out, in, out. He had always preferred -- a more leisurely session, but... there was no denying that his skin felt tighter with each thrust. In, out, in, in. There was no denying the blood that pounded in his veins, an ache in his temple and a heavy throb between his thighs. In, in, in, in.

If his rhythm had become something less than perfect, it seemed to matter little to the body beneath him.

"Ahh... Ah-- Yes, yes, _harder_ \--"

Deeper and deeper, faster and faster. The room around them grew small and dark, hazy as he approached his peak. In, in, in, in. Seconds blurred together into minutes and he was very aware of the sweat on his own skin, the pressure of the boy's thighs around his waist and especially the ball of one heel, where it dug fiercely into his lower back.

In -- in -- _in_ \--

And then he was finished, ejaculating with incredible power, and it was through sheer force of will that he managed to find Flynn Scifo's face with nigh-sightless eyes. In that dark, hot moment, he had briefly lost everything else -- but that _image_ stayed with him. He remembered to look for it.

For a few precious seconds, the boy was incoherent: arching, gasping, clawing at Alexei's shoulders with blunt fingernails, _writhing_ in the promised ecstasy. His eyes rolled back, meaningless animal sounds flooded out of him, and there was no attempt to rein any of it in -- only sensation, only pleasure. For a few precious seconds, he was mad with it.

The moment ended far too quickly, and then he seemed to come back down slowly, his eyes fluttering shut, his lips going slack. A slight shiver; then he went completely still.

Alexei gazed down at him. At some point, his own body recovered: his rapid heartbeat slowed and his shallow breathing evened out again. But he felt none of it as it happened, became aware only after the fact when he suddenly realized he seemed to have the strength required to stand.

Clothes were in order now -- and more handkerchiefs.

He tended to himself first, listening with half an ear to the boy's breathing behind him. Fortunately, Flynn did not seem to be in any danger of falling asleep; and yes, there at last were the subtler noises as he shifted his body slowly into a sitting a position.

What must he have been thinking of, now that his mind was clear enough for such endeavors?

In theory, very little. He had been _told_ , emphatically, to find nothing strange or suspicious about any of the events that had transpired over the last hour. And yet...

Well, there was nothing for it. Alexei weighed the words he would use as he smoothed any remaining creases from his uniform. He attempted a conversational tone at first. "So, Private. How are you feeling now?"

In spite of everything, the movement he saw from the corner of his eye suggested that Flynn Scifo had straightened conscientiously at the sound of his voice, but it did little to disguise the pause before he answered. Finally: "I am... grateful, of course, for your assistance, Sir."

It was, Alexei could not help but notice, a very guarded reply. He had been correct to ask. "I appreciate the diplomacy," he said, chuckling softly. "But diplomacy is not what I need of you right now, Private. Tell me your honest thoughts -- what you _truly_ feel. That's an order."

"I think there's something wrong with me," the boy said at once, and what Alexei could see of him stiffened. "--I didn't mean to say that. It's ridiculous to even think..."

"No," Alexei murmured, retrieving another handkerchief for him. "It is, in fact, perfectly normal." It was anything but. "Continue."

A brief silence, but the words _perfectly normal_ were settling on him, and soon enough he was speaking again. "It... having sex with you was amazing -- _intense_." There was a blush in his voice, but he didn't falter. "Too intense. It wasn't... normal."

The real question was: how was he doing it? After six hours, the device's hold did tend to wear thin, making new commands easier to resist -- that was a known limitation -- but they were nowhere near that mark yet and somehow this boy, this unassuming _child_ , had been doing it from the very beginning. Alexei remembered his early disappointment; it seemed terribly shortsighted now. In one way or another, Flynn Scifo was clearly made of far sterner stuff than he had imagined.

Perhaps Niren was right. Perhaps the boy _would_ make captain.

But now was not a moment for such considerations. Now was a moment for -- cleaning up.

"At attention," Alexei said, turning now to watch as he climbed hurriedly to his feet. "Very astute. You are quite correct, you know. The pleasure you felt was far from normal."

Flynn shifted from foot to foot, ever so slightly. He said nothing, but his expression was tense as he studied Alexei's face.

"Clean yourself up," Alexei told him instead, holding out the handkerchief, and the boy took it from him slowly. "Put your clothes back on. Don't worry," he added, because Flynn was still watching him closely. "Everything will make more sense in a moment. This has all been part of a grand experiment."

"Experiment, Sir?" But already he had relaxed considerably; merely knowing there _was_ an explanation seemed to have reassured him. The boy wiped the last of the ejaculate from his skin and set the handkerchief aside, then went for his uniform and got dressed swiftly. In a few more seconds, it would be as if nothing untoward had happened between them here.

Alexei retrieved the handkerchief and returned unhurriedly to the chair behind his desk. He ran his hand over the back of it, feeling the cool leather. Waiting for those few more seconds to elapse.

Then he seated himself and said, "When I count to three, you will forget the events of this night."

Flynn stiffened, staring at him. "Commandant--"

"You cannot speak," Alexei interrupted, and the boy's voice choked off into useless gasping sounds. "You cannot attack me," he added, because now Flynn's hand was finally on the hilt of his sword. "You cannot _move_ ," because he had started for the door.

Now there was only the sound of their breathing; his steady and composed, the boy's ragged with fear. Alexei gave him a moment to come up with any other disastrous courses of action before continuing.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling. "When I count to three, you will forget the events of this night. Instead, you will remember it as quite an ordinary meeting, about patrol schedules and the like. Nothing remarkable. Nothing worth a second thought. Any residual... aftereffects of this encounter are to be attributed to someone else you will vaguely recall having met earlier in the day and feel no need to ever see or think about again. Do we understand one another, Private? If so, nod your head; that's an order."

He could see the struggle in the line of the boy's back, but after a moment he nodded stiffly.

"Very good," Alexei told him lightly.

But he couldn't help wondering whether it would really be enough. Would the boy still wind up feeling that there was, as he had put it, _something wrong_? Alexei would have to keep him under observation -- subtly, of course.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his hands again. "Before this night," he said, "did you trust me, Flynn Scifo? You can speak, but no louder than I myself am speaking now."

"...Yes," the boy admitted quietly. He sounded as though he hated himself for it. "Commandant, what is this? What have you done to me?"

Alexei ignored both questions summarily. "Beyond reproach?" he asked instead, and watched as the boy's hands balled into impotent fists. Another _yes_ , it would seem.

How... terribly convenient.

"One," he said, perhaps lingering over the word more than was strictly necessary. "Two. Three."

Flynn Scifo blinked, then abruptly straightened. He glanced around the room, pursing his lips, obviously more than a little confused, but not quite willing to actually voice it. When he noticed his commandant sitting in front of him, he squared his shoulders further. All of it exactly as before.

"Thank you," Alexei said after a moment, smiling up at him. "That will be all, Private."

The boy snapped to attention, his heels clicking together, and bowed deeply. "I am happy to be of service, Sir," he murmured dutifully. "If there's anything else I can do for you or the Empire..."

"I rather suspect there will be," Alexei told him; it was perfectly true, but it made the boy's blue eyes light up. "For now, enjoy the rest of your evening. That's an order," he added.

If he hadn't been looking for it, he likely wouldn't have noticed the infinitesimal frisson that went through the boy. "I will, Sir," he promised.

And he would. He wouldn't be able to help himself.

Power. Control.

In the end, Alexei knew he wouldn't be able to accomplish anything without them. They were the be-all, end-all -- the only way to fix this corrupt system. And he _would_ fix this system.

Whatever the cost.


End file.
